


CSI: North Pole

by realityisoverrated



Series: Infinite Love [188]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, M/M, Polyamory, Polyfidelity, Smoaking billionaires, Toliver, flommy, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 03:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17154653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realityisoverrated/pseuds/realityisoverrated
Summary: A long cherished tradition inadvertently provides Becca with the evidence she needs to disprove the existence of Santa. The apple doesn't fall far from the Felicity tree.





	CSI: North Pole

**Author's Note:**

> This story depicts a polyamorous relationship between one woman and two men. If this is not something you are interested in, please stop and go no further.
> 
> Merry Christmas! This is the third fic posted this week.
> 
> Becca is 9 in this installment.
> 
> This installment is 166/188. The chronological list for the series, with hyperlinks, can be found at  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/11051019

Original Photograph by Ashkela

 

Tommy flopped onto their bed. He was exhausted after a whirlwind of Christmas activities at the Queen mansion. As usual, they’d spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at Thea and Roy’s. There had been baking and cooking, movie watching, and epic snowball fights. He felt like he could sleep for a week. “I’m getting too old for this.”

“Christmas?” Oliver asked as he placed his suitcase on their bed.

“We need to scale back. Between the charity events, the QC holiday party, and our party for the board, I’m exhausted before Christmas Eve,” Tommy said. Their Decembers were crammed with activities. He couldn’t remember the last time it had just been them and the kids.

“I agree. We should be the first one’s to stop the insanity. We could move the Rebecca and Queen Foundation fundraising events out of December,” Felicity said. “I still can’t figure out how a nice Jewish girl like me ended up attending four weeks of Christmas parties.”

“I’m still trying to figure out how our son who had his bar mitzvah less than a month ago is still getting presents from Santa,” Oliver teased.

“Don’t look at me,” Felicity said. “Christmas was one of his conditions when I was pregnant with Bobby,” she said pointing at Tommy.

“I love Christmas,” Tommy said. He really did love everything about Christmas. He loved picking out a tree, decorating, baking cookies, and shopping for the people he loved. He was more than okay raising the kids Jewish, but he hadn’t been prepared to give up the traditions and rituals that made up Christmas. When he’d learned Felicity was pregnant, he’d wanted to make memories and create traditions with his growing family.

“I know you do,” Felicity said, laying down beside him. “Please don’t let me eat another bite of food until 2034. Why are there so many cookies at Christmas? It’s so unfair. If there was Christmas kale, I wouldn’t have to worry about gorging myself on cookies.”

“I bet I could make a Christmas cookie with kale as an ingredient,” Tommy said with a grin.

“How dare you say something so offensive?” Felicity said with mock outraged.

Tommy kissed the top of Felicity’s head. “Babe, that sounds like a challenge.”

“I’m never going to fit in my dress for Wilma’s wedding next month,” Felicity lamented.

A sharp knock on the door was followed by Oliver saying, “Come in.”

Their bedroom door opened, and Becca entered. She was carrying two large shoe boxes, but what drew her parents’ attention were the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Sweetheart,” Oliver said gently, “what’s wrong?”

Becca stepped around Oliver and moved to Tommy’s side of the bed. She held out the two boxes for Tommy to take. “What’s all this?” Tommy asked.

Becca opened the first box. “These are all from Santa and the Tooth Fairy.” She pulled out two papers and laid them on the bed. One of the letters was from Santa, the other was from the Tooth Fairy. She opened the second box and said, “These are my birthday letters from you.”

As Becca laid one of her birthday letters from Tommy next to the letter from Santa and the Tooth Fairy, panic flooded Tommy’s system. He quickly glanced at his husband and wife. Felicity looked like she was trying not to laugh, and Oliver was looking at him with sympathy.

Becca took one last look at her evidence before she raised her accusing eyes to him. “I was putting away my letter from Santa. They’re all your handwriting. You wrote the letters from Santa and the Tooth Fairy. They’re not real.”

Tommy grabbed a tissue from his nightstand and gently wiped Becca’s eyes and nose. He lifted Becca onto his lap and smoothed the frizz from in front of her eyes. Tommy felt terrible. In trying to give his children something tangible from Santa, he had inadvertently given Becca the evidence she needed to disprove Santa’s existence. He was at a loss as to what to say. The moment a child stopped believing in Santa was their first step towards adolescence. It was another milestone in his daughter’s life that he wasn’t ready for. “My mom used to write me letters from Santa.”

Becca’s eyes went wide. “Grandma Rebecca?”

“Yeah, your Grandma Rebecca wrote me a letter every year from Santa until she went to heaven,” Tommy said. “That first Christmas, after she was gone, I spent it with your daddy. When I woke up Christmas morning…”

“There wasn’t a letter from Santa,” Becca said, her hand rubbing Tommy’s cheek. “Were you sad?”

Oliver’s breath hitched, drawing Tommy and Becca’s attention. He sat heavily on the bed and moved to sit next to them. “I remember that morning. Your dad was very sad.”

Tommy nodded. “I was very sad. When I asked Grandpa Robert and Grandma Moira where Santa’s letters were, I saw the look they exchanged and knew that my mom was the one who was writing me the letters from Santa.”

Becca rested her head on Tommy’s shoulder. “Did you cry?”

“I did,” Tommy admitted. The memory of that Christmas was as vivid as if it was that morning. He had burst into tears before they’d opened their first present. Moira had rocked him in her arms until he cried himself out. Oliver had spent the rest of the day doing his best to cheer him up.

“You missed your mommy,” Becca said with understanding. “I would cry if you or daddy or mommy was in heaven.”

Tommy held Becca closer, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. He prayed that Becca didn’t know what it was to lose a parent until she was old and gray herself. “I miss my mom all the time, especially at Christmas, but do you know what helps me to feel better?”

Becca shook her head.

“You do. You and your brothers and sister. I look at the five of you and I know how much she would’ve loved all of you. Your Grandma Moira and Grandpa Robert too. They would’ve had so much fun with you.” Tommy said. The hole that had been in his heart since the death of his mom had been filled the moment he’d held Bobby for the first time. With the birth of each child, it became easier and easier for him to think of his mom without overwhelming sadness.

Felicity emerged from their closet holding a small wooden box. She looked to Tommy for confirmation and he held out his hand. Felicity sat on the bed next to Becca’s boxes. She took Becca’s hand. “Would you like to see your Grandma Rebecca’s letters?”

Becca nodded eagerly. She took the small box from Felicity and opened it slowly. The inside of the box revealed fifteen letters held together by a blue ribbon. She lifted the packet from the box and held them reverently. “May I read one?”

“Yes.” He touched the top letter. “That’s the last letter she ever wrote me – it was for my eighth birthday.” Tommy lifted the edge of the envelope and pointed to the one beneath. “This is the last letter I ever received from Santa.”

Becca selected the letter from Santa from the packet. She carefully removed the letter from the envelope and unfolded it. Her eyes lit up. “It’s just like the paper our letters from Santa are on.”

Tommy smiled. The paper was thick and creamy with holly and berries bordering the page. The top center of the page was Santa’s name and address. The year Bobby was born, he’d looked everywhere for stationary like his mom used. In the end, he special ordered the paper for the first letter he ever wrote as Santa. He had a large box of the paper hidden in Felicity’s first floor office. Sometimes being a billionaire was a good thing.

Becca began to read aloud.

_"Dear Tommy,_

_Thank you for your letter. Mrs. Claus, the elves, and I all had a good year at the North Pole. We were busy making toys, but we found time to have fun. To answer your question, I don’t get to go sailing because it is too cold at the North Pole, but I do go ice fishing with the elves._

_You have been a very good boy this year. You are doing well in school. I know how hard long division is, but you have finally got the hang of it. I’m proud of how hard you worked to learn it. You had a good year playing soccer and baseball too. Keep practicing and you will be able to throw all the way to home plate before next season._

_I am most proud of how many friends you have and what a kind boy you are. Being kind to others is the most important thing. Not only does kindness make others feel good, it makes us feel good too._

_Never forget what a special little boy you are._

_Merry Christmas._

_Love, Santa._

_P.S. Thank you for the cookies and the carrots. The cookies were delicious, and the reindeer will love the carrots."_

Becca carefully returned the letter to its envelope. “Santa tells us to be kind every year.”

Tommy had to swallow before he could respond. “It’s the most important thing.”

“Sometimes I forget,” Becca admitted sheepishly.

Tommy chuckled. He could see himself and Oliver in Becca but, in many ways, she was a mini Felicity. Her forensic analysis of the letters he’d written was a reminder of how much like her mom Becca truly was. However, there was one trait he and his daughter both struggled with. They both had a sharp tongue when they were hurt. “So do I. Sometimes it’s hard to remember when we get angry or our feelings are hurt – and that’s okay. We just need to remember to apologize to the people we hurt because we forgot to be kind.”

“Grandma Rebecca must have loved you very much,” Becca said, playing with a button on his shirt.

“You think?” Tommy said.

Becca nodded.

“How do you know?”

She looked up at him and smiled. “Because I love you very much.”

Tommy crushed Becca to his chest and buried his face in her hair. “I love you very much. I’m so lucky to be your dad.”

“I’m lucky to be your daughter,” she mumbled against his chest.

He kissed the top of her head. “Ready for bed.”

Becca nodded against his chest. He released her and watched as she put his mom’s letters back into the wooden box and then methodically put away her own letters. Tommy took her boxes from her and held her hand as he escorted her back to her room. Becca took the boxes from Tommy and returned them to a shelf in her closet. She climbed into bed and waited for Tommy to tuck her in.

Tommy adjusted the blankets around Becca before he placed a kiss to her forehead. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart. Sweet dreams.”

“Merry Christmas, da,” she said through a yawn. “I promise I won’t tell the twins about the letters.”

“Thank you.”

“Does Bobby know about Santa?” she asked.

“He does. Some kids at school told him that Santa wasn’t real.” Becca was taking the news a lot better than Bobby had. There had been tears and yelling.

Becca smirked. “He didn’t figure it out on his own?”

Tommy laughed. There wasn’t a lot of sibling rivalry amongst his children, but there was one thing that his three youngest were always proud of – outsmarting Bobby. “Your brother isn’t a genius about everything.”

Becca giggled.

“Goodnight,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Tommy was about to walk away when Becca grabbed his hand. “Da, you can keep writing me letters from Santa. They help you remember Grandma Rebecca.”

Tommy’s eyes filled with tears. His mom would be proud. Her namesake was kind, just like her. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

When he returned to his room, Oliver and Felicity were ready for bed. The wooden box containing his mom’s letters were on his nightstand. It had been awhile since he’d reread his mom’s letters. It might be time.

“Are you all right?” Felicity asked, wrapping him in a hug.

“I’m just a little sad. Our baby doesn’t believe anymore,” he said.

Oliver wrapped his arms around his husband and wife and placed a kiss to the top of Tommy’s head. “I don’t know about that. She believes in Tommy Merlyn and he is way better than Santa Claus.”

“Someone wants to get lucky,” Tommy teased.

“That depends,” Oliver said, fighting a smile.

“On what?” Tommy asked.

Oliver winked. “Is it working?”

“It looks like I still have two Christmas presents to unwrap,” Tommy said, waggling his eyebrows.

Felicity laughed. “You’re both incorrigible.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Your kudos and comments are what keep me writing and are always appreciated.
> 
> I'm sending love and big squishy hugs to everyone today.
> 
> Prompts are encouraged and always welcomed.
> 
> You can also come say hi to me on tumblr. I'm always happy to answer questions about this verse or anything else Arrow. http://realityisoverrated-fic.tumblr.com


End file.
